Here's James!
by compositor
Summary: After being tasked with taking a special train to the mainland because of his noisy entrances, James encounters a problem...


Hi folks, completely new to this - I don't even know how to do indents or line breaks - it's the first story I'm posting, so excuse me if I miss any established etiquette... I have a young kid who is a big Thomas fan and we like to mess about with her Brio trains and make our own stories. Although growing up with the model series, I'm a total convert to the newer animated ones. I came up with this story before I discovered this forum, so let me know what you think!

* * *

**Here's James!**

* * *

All of Sir Topham Hatt's engines on the Island of Sodor are very proud of being really useful. However, a few of them sometimes let their pride turn into boastfulness and vanity. None more so than James, the red engine.

One evening, he was tearing up the tracks towards Knapford, grinning into the wind that rushed by. It was a warm sunset, which made his shiny red paint look fantastic. He blew his whistle hard at Henry, who was waiting at the junction.

'Hello Henry! Don't I look splendid today!' he shouted.

'Hello James. Indeed…' replied Henry, with a slight roll of the eyes.

James pulled to a screeching halt at a platform, blew his whistle again and yelled: 'Here's James!'

Gordon had been snoozing a little at the next platform, waiting for passengers to get off. He jumped with a start upon hearing the racket and narrowed his eyes at James.

'Must you make such a noisy entrance!' he boomed. James blinked at him.

'If I _don't_ make a grand entrance, how on earth will my passengers know that they're about to be pulled by such a splendid engine? _Your_ passengers probably fall asleep in their newspapers and miss you completely.'

'A truly splendid engine,' said Gordon, plainly, 'needs no grand entrance. You have no class, little James.'

'Class? Hah!' James snorted a little, then smirked at Gordon, whose brow wrinkled with annoyance at him, 'The only class you have to offer is an advanced class on "How To Be Boring".'

Thomas laughed at that, having been listening while shunting coaches.

'What cheek!' fumed Gordon.

'Well I like your grand entrances, James,' Thomas chipped in, 'they make me feel cheerful!'

James grinned as Gordon turned his dark look to Thomas.

'Don't encourage him…' he rumbled.

James winked at Thomas, 'Thank you Thomas. I – '

'James,' came a familiar voice from the platform.

The red engine turned his eyes to see the stern, black-suited shape of Sir Topham Hatt. He assumed he was to be told off and made a face of surprised innocence.

'Yes Sir?'

Sir Topham Hatt put his hands on his hips.

'I might have a use for your noisy entrances. I have a special train tomorrow evening.'

James's face lit up. 'Oh really, Sir?'

'Sodor's very own blind football team are playing a match on Wednesday on the mainland in Manchester and I'd like you to pull the train carrying them and the fans.'

'Blind football team?' interrupted Thomas, forgetting his manners, before adding, '…Sir?'

Sir Topham Hatt turned to look at Thomas.

'Yes Thomas. All the players are blind except for the goalkeeper. I thought it would be entertaining for the players to hear James announce himself when their train arrives.'

James looked delighted. 'It'd be my pleasure, Sir! And I get a trip to the mainland too… I'll have to be looking my best.'

Gordon rolled his eyes, grumbling indistinctly.

'Of course, James,' said Sir Topham, 'Now, back to work, you three. No delays.'

Thomas shook himself out of thinking about blind football and whistled goodbye to the two other engines, going about his day.

* * *

In the engine shed that night, James was boasting about his special assignment, accompanied by weary huffing from Gordon.

'Sir Topham chose me, of course, because who makes a finer and more noticeable entrance than yours truly?'

'Noticeable is an understatement,' chuckled Emily.

'Shocking, more like,' agreed Gordon, 'now quieten down. It is time to sleep.'

Gordon shut his eyes, exhausted from pulling the express.

James lowered his voice a little to speak to Thomas and Percy, who were still listening, intently.

'And I get to go to the mainland, so I'll have to get my paintwork washed and polished specially.'

'I want to see the blind football team,' said Percy, still caught on that part of the story, 'I wonder how they score goals?'

'Yes, I wonder that too! Maybe we can come to meet them at the station,' mused Thomas.

'I'll have to get everything done quickly,' continued James, as if the smaller engines hadn't spoken, 'then I can get to the washdown early and… ah…'

James stalled abruptly in his speech and shut his eyes tight. Thomas and Percy looked at him, quizzically. The red engine suddenly sneezed, sending a puff of ashes from his funnel which blew in the light breeze and settled all over Thomas's front. The little blue tank engine blinked and snorted. James frowned, then both he and Percy started to laugh uproariously at Thomas. Emily giggled too, seeing the scene.

'James!' Thomas yelled, moving his lips to try to blow ash off his face.

Gordon had been just drifting off. He was jerked awake by the noise and scowled as his cheeks reddened.

'Will you keep it down over there!' he bellowed.

An abrupt hush fell over the engine shed, followed by a couple of quiet snickers.

* * *

The sun was rising on another warm day. But when James started to wake up, groggily, it gradually dawned on him that he wasn't feeling well. He felt stuffed up in the smoke box and tubes. He blinked a few times in the daylight, then promptly sneezed, loudly. He groaned as a draught whirled little wisps of fine ash and soot around him. The sneeze had startled most of the still sleeping engines awake and they looked around, yawning. Thomas gazed, sleepily at the floating bits of ash in the air.

'What was that?' he murmured. James sneezed again, making Thomas jump, fully awake. Percy squeaked a little, blinking.

'Are you alright, James?' asked Thomas.

'I think…' James started to say. At least, he tried to say it, but his voice sounded more a husky whisper. 'Wha-?' he coughed, 'What's happened to my voice?'

'Oh James,' said Percy, widening his eyes at the red engine, 'you don't sound very well.'

'Sounds like a bad cold to me,' said Emily, 'I know all about colds in engines. Too many ashes floating around the system. When was the last time you had your smokebox cleaned, James?'

'I'm a very busy engine…' James rasped, then coughed again, pouting angrily.

'You should get to the works and have that seen to,' continued Emily. 'Don't you need your voice for that special train?'

James's eye twitched. 'Yes!' he whispered, 'What am I going to do…?'

'Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…' boomed Gordon's voice, slowly and amusedly, 'Lost his voice, has he? Haha! It's only the morning and you have made my day already, James. Well done.'

James looked exasperated, 'Please don't tell Sir Topham,' he whispered, as loud as he could, 'I'll go to the works before midday and have my voice back by the time th-th-ah-'

He stuttered, holding his breath, then sneezed again, sending ashes down the line of engines and propelling himself several feet backwards into the shed.

* * *

James felt worse as the morning went on and moaned and groaned his way down the main line. Rather sluggishly, he rolled into Maron with passengers. Another sneeze made him suddenly lurch backwards into his coaches with a huge bump.

'Really!' the coaches scolded, 'Do you mind?'

James huffed miserably as they were uncoupled, but realised he just had time to slip into the steamworks now before his next job.

Victor was overseeing a paint touch up on Rebecca, who was telling him about the trucks bumping her down Gordon's Hill.

'They're so funny, those trucks! They were all shouting "bump the banana!" and making me laugh so hard I could barely keep my brakes on.'

Victor laughed at that, and then spotted James trundling in.

'James, my friend… what can we do for you today?'

James coughed and demanded in a raspy tone, 'I need my smokebox cleaning out. As soon as possible. I have to have my voice back by this evening!'

'Oh dear James,' remarked Rebecca, 'I think you might be ill!'

James scowled, 'You think?' he shouted, hoarsely, making himself cough again. He groaned, 'can you fix this, Victor? Quickly? I have to finish my other jobs.'

Victor smiled, 'We can try. When did you last have your tubes cleaned?'

'I'm a busy engine,' James whispered, haughtily.

'Never too busy for a paint job though, it seems. You should make sure you keep on top of the other things too, my friend. Little problems can soon become bigger ones,' Victor raised a brow, sagely.

Victor arranged for a clean out of James's smokebox, which was full of black soot and ashes. He felt a little better with that done and didn't feel like sneezing anymore, but still found his voice was hoarse and scratchy.

'We should really clean out your tubes too, James. The ashes have been blowing back around them,' advised Victor.

'No time,' whispered James, 'please tell me my voice will be back by this evening?'

'Well…' mused Victor, 'maybe. Have a couple of runs in the fresh air. Rest your voice and try not to speak too much. No promises though.'

James gasped, 'Try not to…' he tried to shout, then, remembering, whispered, '…speak?'

* * *

James completed the rest of his tasks in silence, looking glummer and glummer as the day went on. Thomas was chatting with Emily as he spotted James trundling in slowly to pull up at Knapford again. Thomas blew his whistle.

'Hello James! Are you feeling better?' he called.

James threw him a look and sighed, in annoyance. Thomas frowned.

'Poor James,' he muttered to Emily, 'he looks so sad.'

'I know,' she replied, 'I almost miss his noisy comings and goings already.'

That gave Thomas an idea. He waited until James was stopping at the platform, then he shouted, loudly:

'Here's James!'

James blinked, surprised, looking back to Thomas. Slowly, he smiled, the smile growing to a broader smug grin at his waiting passengers.

Thomas gasped, and then beamed, having another idea.

'That's it! That's how we can help James! Emily, would you help me to spread the word to the other engines to shout James's usual call every time he comes to a station?'

Emily laughed, 'Thomas, that's a great idea!'

'And,' Thomas continued excitedly, 'we could get as many engines as possible to come and wait for the special train to leave this evening and then we could all announce his arrival for the blind football team!'

'Brilliant!' Emily grinned, 'I'll spread the word…'

* * *

One by one, the other engines thought it was a good idea too.

'Ah yes, I've had a few bad colds in my time,' Henry said to Thomas when he found him and explained his plan, 'Awful stuffy feeling it is too, not nice at all with a delicate system… You can count me in.'

Emily, meanwhile, found Gordon resting in a siding.

'You want me to do what?' he rumbled, incredulously at the request.

Emily bit her lip.

'Come on Gordon. It'll help poor James – he's feeling miserable!'

'You will never catch me shouting about at platforms in such an undignified manner. It's silly. I won't do it,' Gordon snorted and looked away.

Emily started to move away, saying, 'you will, Gordon.'

'I won't!' Gordon scoffed.

'You will!' Emily called back, almost out of earshot.

* * *

For the rest of the afternoon, James started to find that every time he arrived anywhere, somebody would shout his signature announcement for him. Even Toby rang his bell and shouted: 'Here's James!' as loudly as he could. Rebecca flew past him once on the main line bellowing it with great gusto and telling him how splendid he looked with a wide grin on her face. Edward and Phillip both shouted and cheered for his arrival at Wellsworth. James's mood improved, even though his voice didn't and, by the time he was due to pick up his special train, he was feeling much better. He was however a little worried about what Sir Topham Hat might say when he found out James wasn't able to do as he asked.

At the station, Thomas looked out for James coming around the bend. He and Percy had gotten the chance to come along early to speak with Sodor's blind football team and, right now, his green friend was quizzing them with great fascination. They showed the two tank engines one of their training footballs and even kicked a couple of passes between themselves on the platform.

'Percy – he's coming!' Thomas bubbled, excitedly, seeing the red engine in the distance. They thanked the football players, wished them luck and backed off away from the platform. Thomas glanced across the station. Emily was there, plus Henry and Gordon. He blew a very short 'peep' on his whistle, noted by Emily, who shot a stern look at Gordon. Gordon eyed her, pursing his lips.

James drew closer, coughing a little, seeing Sir Topham Hatt stood on the platform with the football team. He quietly tried his voice as he approached.

'Here's… Here's James…' he rasped and coughed again, then let out a moan, lamenting his predicament.

'Are you sure you're up to this, James?' asked his driver, 'Not too late to tell Sir Topham.'

'Of course I'm sure!' James whispered, 'A splendid job for a splendid engine!'

Quickly, he plastered a big grin on his face and rushed into the station.

Emily narrowed her eyes at Gordon. Gordon hissed a little steam at her, his nostrils flaring. James's brakes began to screech, bringing him to a halt at the platform. Then suddenly, much to his own surprise, Gordon found himself shouting with the others, in a booming voice:

'Here's James!'

Gordon went a deep red in the cheeks, mumbling, 'Oh… the indignity…'

James beamed and blew his whistle. Sir Topham looked confused, looking around himself at the other engines, but then turned to the football team.

'Er… as you can probably hear, James has arrived, the engine who'll be taking you to the mainland this evening. I hope you have a smooth and comfortable journey and good luck for the match.'

The players thanked Sir Topham Hatt and James, who muttered hoarsely, 'It's my pleasure!' causing the controller to eye him suspiciously.

'Carry on James,' he said, eventually. The red engine puffed proudly away from the platform with his train.

* * *

James woke the next morning at Tidmouth, having returned in the early hours. He'd had a good run and had apologised to the football team for his lost voice, but they told him they'd enjoyed their ride and thanked him for taking them. He glanced to his left to see Thomas grinning at him, cheerily.

'Good morning James! Have you found your voice yet?' asked the tank engine.

'I don't know, I –' James started, then realised his voice had improved. 'Yes! I have! Ahh… how good to be able to speak and shout again!'

He stopped grinning when he noticed Sir Topham Hatt nearby.

'So you have a voice today, James?' he asked, peering up at the red engine below the rim of his hat.

'Er, yes Sir. Sorry I was lacking it yesterday.'

Sir Topham smiled, wryly, 'Yes… I hear the football team had a marvellous ride however. You did well. But you should have come to me if you had a problem, James. I had to hear about it from Victor after the fact. Unless I know what's going on amongst my engines, I cannot run this railway efficiently. Remember that in future.'

'Yes Sir,' replied James, 'I will.'

'I'm glad you're feeling better, but you must go and have your tubes cleaned today,' added Sir Topham, 'You have some good friends helping you out here, don't you think?'

James grinned, 'I certainly do. Thank you, Thomas. And everybody else. You made my day sound a lot better.'

Thomas chuckled and peeped his whistle, setting the other engines off whistling too.

'Oh, and of course Gordon…' James smirked a little at the big blue engine, 'I heard you shouting above everybody else at the station yesterday. I never knew you cared so much…'

Gordon shuddered, going a little pink in the cheeks and exclaimed a long 'Ohhhh…' as the others laughed.


End file.
